Murder and Misdeeds
A Fonnie Beachum Mystery
Helen Goodman
O world...confused and filled withmurder and misdeeds.
Thomas Kyd (1594)
Other mysteries by Helen Goodman
Toxic Waste
Murder at the Lodge
Murder in the Valley
Murder at the Lake
And coming soon: Murder on the Mountain
Chapter One
Fonnie Beachum smiled tenderly as she reread the invitation. Of course, she'd known the contents before receiving it, but it was good to see it in print. She rubbed her soft hands over the soft-textured vellum, traced the embossed names, Amy Beachum Hendley and Paul Augustus Trent. What a lovely couple they were. Both in their late forties, both survivors. Amy was divorced and Paul was a widower. Fonnie was thrilled her daughter was being given another chance at happiness. She nodded in approval at the upcoming date. February fourteenth. When better to have a wedding than on Valentine's Day?
She looked up and grinned at her grandson, his lanky legs sprawled out under the kitchen table, his dark hair still mussed from sleep. “Beacon Hill Beach,” she said reading the location, “at the Shepherd by the Sea Chapel. Isn't that a marvelous name? Like there's a special blessing hovering over it.”
“There is,” Brian said, “but only for sailors and fishermen. I don't know how Mom got it in her head to get married there. It would have been a lot simpler if she'd just come back here to Groverton and gotten married in our own church.”
“Simpler for you, but not for their friends in Virginia. I think they made a wise decision to have the wedding midway between. That way no one has more than a few hours to travel and we can all enjoy the North Carolina beach.” Fonnie added another spoonful of sugar to her already sweetened coffee, took a sip, and smiled. “I've never been to Beacon Hill Beach but Amy says it's lovely–small, not too commercialized yet. And it's a plus that Paul's law partner owns a motel there. What's his name?”
“Edgar Myers. Seems like an odd investment for a lawyer to me.”
“Anyway, Amy says it's close by the chapel and he's giving all the wedding guests reduced rates. Mighty nice of him.” Fonnie slowly slathered grape jelly on her piece of toast. “I wish we could stay a few days after the wedding. It's been nearly two years since I've been to the beach, since the summer before my stroke. Now I'm back on my feet, I'd love to walk the sands, commune with the seagulls. The wedding is on a Thursday. It'd be nice to stay for the weekend. Do you think you could get some time off work?”
Brian shook his head as he gulped his third cup of breakfast coffee. “No way. You know the police force is short handed since so many of the national guardsmen have been called up. Besides, February isn't exactly the best beach month. They could have waited a while. Mom's acting like a giggling teenager going on her first date.”
“Love will do that to you. You'll find that out one of these days.” Fonnie beamed at Brian. “I just hope I'm still around when it happens.”
“In that case, I hope you're planning on living to be a hundred because it won't happen any time soon. I'm enjoying the bachelor life too well. Which reminds me—I've got a date tonight. Won't be home for supper.”
“That's good because I won't be cooking.”
Brian pushed back his chair, got up and stretched his six foot plus frame. His blue uniform emphasized his bulging biceps, his rugged torso. He's so handsome, Fonnie thought, no wonder his little black book is full. But, she thought in pride, he's more than just good looking. He's sweet and kind and a mighty good cop.
“And why aren't you cooking?” He turned back as he headed out the door. “You got a date, too?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. A shopping date. Keisha is coming by. We're doing lunch, then looking for my mother-of-the-bride dress. After all that, I'll be too tired to cook supper.” Fonnie finished her toast and looked back at Brian. “Any suggestions?”
“You mean about the dress?”
Fonnie nodded.
“Not about the dress.” Brian hesitated. “But maybe you should do something about your hair.”
Fonnie's hands flew up to her head, patted the frizzy reddish-orange curls. “You don't like the copper-kettle color?”
“You mean, the Brillo-pad look? Yeah, I like it. But you might tone it down for the wedding.”
Fonnie scowled. “Did your mother put you up to this?”
“No. Not at all. I think she rather enjoys telling her big-city pals that her mother is an escaped circus performer.” He snatched his cap from the coat hook and gave her a wink. “But wouldn't it be fun to surprise her with a new, sophisticated, aristocratic do?”
Fonnie wadded up her napkin and aimed for his head. “You better get out of here or I'll give you a new do.”
Brain laughed. “Tell Keisha 'hey' for me. Maybe you could get her to go to the wedding and spend a few days with you at the beach. She must be a glutton for punishment if she's taking you shopping.”
The door slammed behind him before Fonnie could come up with a retort. But as she sipped the last of her coffee, the idea that Brian had tossed out as a joke began to take root. Maybe Keisha would go with her.
“Let me get this straight,” Keisha said, stirring her iced tea so vigorously that it splashed onto the table, “you want me to go to the wedding, then stay on and walk the beach with you for a few days?”
Fonnie nodded. “That's right. And I'll pay all the expenses. Sound good?”
“And what exactly am I to be?” Keisha gave Fonnie a teasing smile. “Your companion? Your black maid? Your pooper- scooper-upper?”
“All of the above, but mostly just a friend.” She stared across the table at the young girl with the beautiful bronze-colored skin. “I don't need a baby sitter, but it would be nice to have a friend along.”
“It's rather a new idea, though.” Keisha took a quick gulp of tea and set the glass down carefully. “It's silly I know. But until last month I was your home-health aide. Sometimes I forget you're not my boss anymore.”
“I never was your boss. You're the one who did all the bossing. You insisted I do my exercises. Forced me to walk without my cane. Kept telling me I could do my own housework.” She squeezed Keisha's hand. “You were right. I did need to regain my independence. And thanks to you, I did.” Fonnie sat up straighter and squared her shoulders. “And I could probably walk the beach alone, too. But I'm just a little nervous about it. You know I still tire easily. And besides, it'd be more fun with a friend.”
“Indeed it would. And I think I can cut a few classes without a problem. I'll go with you if you promise one thing.”
“And that would be?”
“That you stay out of trouble.”
“What trouble could I get into when we'll be staying practically next door to the Shepherd by the Sea Chapel?”
Chapter Two
Amy was waiting for them in the Beachside Motel lobby. Even dressed in a causal blue pant suit, she looked every bit the successful business woman that she was. If she had any wedding jitters, they didn't show. Keisha stepped to one side as the bride-to-be rushed out and grabbed her mother around the waist. “Made the trip all right?”
“Well, we're here, but let me tell you, for a college kid, Keisha doesn't have much smarts when it comes to reading road maps. We got messed up trying to bypass Raleigh, got on some cow path that had neither gas stations nor McDonalds, missed our turn-off and had to back-track five miles. I sure wouldn't want to ride to New York with her.”
“You needn't worry about that,” Keisha said. “If we ever go to New York together, we're gonna fly and you can bitch to the pilot all the way.”
Amy laughed. “Mom, you ought to be a
shamed for giving Keisha such a hard time.” She hugged Fonnie again. “You look great. But what have you done to your hair?”
“What about my hair?” Fonnie caressed the soft waves, as shiny and silvery as a new quarter. “You don't like it?”
“I love it. You look so....”
“Sophisticated and aristocratic?”
“Actually, I was going to say prim and proper, but aristocratic fits better.”
“You'd better say that. I've never in my life been accused of being prim and proper. Actually, the hair was Brian's idea. He thought I would have a better chance of snagging a boyfriend if I didn't look so much like a dance-hall floozy.”
“He may be right. And speaking of Brian, where is that handsome son of mine?”
“He'll be along shortly. He probably had to stop and eat a couple of times. He thinks he's still a growing boy.”
Keisha opened the trunk of the car and got out their luggage. Amy picked up one of the bags and steered Fonnie toward the door. “Come on. There are some people I want you to meet and Paul is anxious to see you. You too, Keisha. There's someone special I want you to meet.”
“Sounds good. I'll just move the car and be right in.”
Keisha nearly salivated at the someone special that Amy was leading toward her. He must have climbed right out of the pages of Ebony, she thought, or maybe he's a brother to that gorgeous black detective on NYPD Blue.
“Stephon Weber. Keisha Riggs.” Amy acted like she was presenting a piece of candy to a hungry child. But Keisha wasn't sure if she was supposed to be the hungry child or the piece of candy. It didn't matter. What she’d imagined might be a boring event suddenly looked more promising. She extended her hand and it was quickly swallowed up by his bigger one.
“Stephon is the latest addition to our real estate agency,” Amy said. “He's already making a big splash in the market.”
“How nice.” Keisha smiled as she slowly reclaimed her hand. “I'm pleased to meet you.” Unable to think of anything else, she added. “Looks like we'll have lovely weather for the wedding.”
“Yes. Lovely for this time of year. Amy tells me you're in college.”
“Yes, she's a business major,” Amy said before Keisha had a chance to answer. “And Mom told me she made the dean's list in her first semester.” Amy looked up as the front door opened. “Got to go and do my greeting duties. You kids get acquainted now and I'll catch you later.”
Stephon laughed. “Do you get the impression we're being thrown together for the duration of the festivities?”
“Looks like, but Fonnie may not like the idea. She'll expect me to be around whenever she wants me. If I'm not, she won't be too happy. And if Fonnie's not happy, ain't nobody happy.”
“I'm looking forward to meeting her. Amy has told me a little about her mother, her remarkable recovery after her stroke, and her forays into crime fighting. Sounds like an interesting person. But right now I'd like to learn more about you.”
Yes indeed, Keisha thought, this little foray is definitely looking up. Imagine, a man who isn't all about “me.” She grinned at him. “And what would you like to know?”
“In the first place you don't look like a college freshman. Is this a career change for you?”
“That's a kind way of putting it. Actually, I had to work a few years to scrounge up some money. I was a nurse assistant in a nursing home. That's where I met Fonnie. She urged me to go on to school and become an RN. But nursing isn't really my bag so I decided to go into Business Administration.”
Keisha looked around the room and saw Fonnie sitting with Paul and some other guests. “It looks like Fonnie is in good hands so she won't be looking for me any time soon.” She turned her attention back to Stephon. “I don't know a soul here except the bride and groom. Do you?”
“Yes, I've met Paul's partners and some of his friends. That's Buzz Garrison, one of his partners, talking to Fonnie now.”
“The one that's leaning against the counter and holding his stomach as if he were in labor?”
“That's the one. He must not be feeling well. He and his wife, Midge, arrived before lunch about the same time I did, and he looked then like he was nursing a hangover.”
Keisha studied the man. Probably in his fifties, tall, well-built, but with the beginning of what was generally known as a beer-belly. “Poor fella. He should be in bed.”
Stephon nodded. “It looks like he's telling Fonnie his problems.”
“Better her than me. Who's the other guy with Paul?”
That's our host, Edgar Myers. He's the senior partner in the law firm. I heard he's planning on retiring soon and he bought this motel as an investment and a retirement home. But I hear his wife isn't too happy with the plan.”
“Sounds like a winning idea to me. Edgar looks awfully young, though, to be retiring. He must have done well.”
A smartly dressed, thirtyish blonde came up to Edgar, wrapped her arms around his shoulders and whispered something in his ear.
“Wow,” Keisha said, “if that's his wife he certainly has done well. That suit didn't come from any store I shop in.”
“That's Lula. I think the term for her in the business world is ‘trophy wife.’”
“Quite a trophy. She's lovely.”
“Yes, she is. But from what I've heard, Edgar has to work hard to keep her happy.” Stephon's gaze went from Edgar back to where Buzz and Fonnie sat. “And right now it looks like Fonnie is trying hard to get your attention.”
Keisha looked quickly over to her traveling companion. “Oh-oh. I'd love to talk more, but I think I'd better get Fonnie to her room. She needs to rest a bit before the rehearsal and dinner.”
“Sure. I'll see you later.”
“Thank goodness you rescued me from that Garrison fellow.” Fonnie kicked off her shoes and stretched out on her bed. “I don't care if he is Paul's law partner, he's a total bore. Kept talking about how bad he felt, stomach cramps, nauseated, dizzy. Asked me what I thought he had. Some people think just because I used to be a nurse, I can diagnose, treat, and cure everything from hiccoughs to hangovers.”
“Can't you? I've always thought you were pretty smart.”
“Of course I'm smart. I told him it sounded like he got the flu bug and he needed to stay in bed for a couple of days. And he certainly didn't need to spread it around.”
Keisha nodded her head. “And what did he say to that?”
“Said he hadn't been around anyone with the flu, and he wouldn't miss being an usher for Paul's wedding for anything.”
Keisha walked over to the window and pulled up the blinds. “Well, forget about him. We'll just try to avoid being around him.” She gazed out of the window. “You have a superb view of the beach. It's beautiful but the water looks angry.”
“Angry? What do you mean?”
Keisha shrugged. “I don't know. Like we're being intrusive. Like the water gods are upset because man has built so close to their habitat. They think we don't respect their power, their sovereignty. I think that's why the sailors built the chapel, to appease a jealous Neptune.”
Fonnie waved Keisha to the door. “Get out of here, youngun. You're giving me the shivers. Next thing I know, you'll be telling me they've put a curse on me.”
“No. They save their curses for those who litter the beach. Anyway, I'm gone now. I'm right next door. Call if you need me–or pound on the wall. I'll stop in and get you in time for the rehearsal.”
“Fine.” Fonnie fluffed up her pillow. “I better rest while I can. I surely won't get much more until after the wedding.”
Like some other guests, Brian arrived while Fonnie was taking her nap. The wedding party was small but a few people decided to come up early to avoid driving on the day of the ceremony. When Fonnie came back to the lobby, Paul was greeting everyone and insisting they attend the dinner after the rehearsal Fonnie and Keisha were introduced to Amy's friends and business associates, to Paul's daughter, Clara, and her husband, Tony Cauthen.
Clara was nearly a duplicate of her father. She had thick dark hair, high cheek bones, and deep green eyes. Fonnie dubbed them Irish eyes.
Tony was a redhead with an engaging smile and a boisterous laugh. He laughed as he shook Fonnie's hand. “I was just telling Paul he'd better enjoy tonight. It's the last night before his life sentence.”
Fonnie gave Tony a decidedly frosty stare. “Is that your definition of marriage, young man?”
Before Tony could say anything else, Clara stepped between them. “Don't pay any attention to him. He's just trying to be funny.” She held out her hand to Fonnie. “I'm delighted to meet you, Mrs. Beachum. Amy has told me a lot about you. She's so proud of the progress you've made after your stroke. And I know you must be proud of her also.”
“Proud as a peacock—raising a son alone and at the same time making a name for herself in the business world. Your daddy is a lucky man if I do say so myself.”
Clara laughed. “That's what he keeps saying. And I'm lucky to get her for a step-mom. I'm sure they're going to be very happy.”
Tony slipped his arm around Clara's waist. “Yeah, I was just kidding earlier. Maybe they'll have as much happiness as we have. Huh, Honey?”
Fonnie thought she detected a slight edge to Clara's voice as she answered, “Ours would be hard to match, Tony.”
Paul came up to Fonnie and took her by the arm. “Hate to pull you away, but you simply must meet my Uncle Jeremiah. He's been eyeing you ever since you walked into the room, and since he’s going to be my best man, I’ve got to keep him happy.”
As they crossed the room, Fonnie located the man who had to be Paul’s uncle. He was tall, broad shouldered, had a head of beautiful gray hair, and a billboard smile. Wow, she thought, handsome men must run in the family. Paul barely got the introduction out of his mouth when Amy called to him and Jeremiah, saying they had to leave for the rehearsal.
Murder and Misdeeds Page 1